


Choice

by Satine86



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Mild Language, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Canon, because that's what I'm about, phillip's parents - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 15:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: "If you want to be any part of my life, you have a choice to make: either accept both of us, or neither of us.”Running into Phillip's parents wasn't planned, but giving them an ultimatum was inevitable.





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some ridiculousness (with fluff bc I can't help myself), but I can't be the only one who digs it when Phillip tells his parents to piss off? (also should I apologize for clearing out my WIP folder and spamming the tag?) :/

Phillip couldn’t say he had really missed high society functions, the idle chit-chat and polite smiles. In fact he might go so far to say he was happy to never have to attend one again. Unfortunately, being a social pariah wasn’t meant to last. At least not when an eccentric baron took a liking to your circus. 

There were worse things, Phillip reasoned, than having someone with a lot of money come knocking on your door. The Baron seemed a genuine sort, and so Phillip and P.T. had both been hard pressed to refuse his offer of throwing a soiree for the circus troupe. 

While the party was a far cry from the Queen’s palace, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing. The party seemed far more relaxed, those in attendance some of the more liberal minded of the social elite. For that Phillip was grateful, it gave the performers a chance to mingle with their admirers without worry.

Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray, Phillip nearly spilled it down his front when W.D. skidded into him. 

“Carlyle…” he drawled. 

“Wheeler…” Phillip said in the same fashion. 

“I don’t want you to get upset, but I heard some folks talking.” W.D. glanced around, almost as if someone might be eavesdropping on them. “I think your parents are here.” 

“What?” Phillip gripped the stem of the flute tightly, eyes already scanning the crowd. “What would they be doing here?” 

Before W.D could even pretend to answer that question, Phillip spun back around. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“They’re here?”

“They’re coming this way.” Phillip drained his glass and sat it down on a nearby table. 

“Want me to stay?” 

“God no, I would never dream of inflicting them on you.” Phillip started shoving W.D. away. “Please go warn Anne, though.” Once he deemed W.D. safe, Phillip turned back just in time to see his parents come to a halt before him. 

“Phillip, we weren’t certain you would be here.” 

“At a party being thrown in honor of the show I co-own. Why _would_ I be here?” He shrugged slightly, wondering if he had angered a deity lately in order to be dealing with this.

“What your father meant is that we weren’t certain you would still be here. It has grown rather late.” 

“Well, I am here, and now you’re here. Is there something you wished to discuss with me? Because I thought your last letter made it quite clear there would be no further communication.” It hadn’t bothered Phillip to cut ties, though it had annoyed him that his father had required the last word on the matter. 

“You sent the letter?” his mother hissed. 

His father bristled, pulled his chin back. “I told you I would.”

“I didn’t think you were serious!” 

Their hissed bickering was soon interrupted by a fourth person joining their group. 

“Phillip?” Anne’s voice was soft and full of concern. He turned to her with an apologetic look on his face. 

“I thought W.D. would keep you busy.”

“He tried, but I wanted to check on you.” Her gaze flickered toward his parents, her head tilted downward slightly. 

Phillip held out his hand, and she slipped hers gracefully into his. “Thank you,” he whispered as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and, without thinking, pressed a kiss to her temple. 

Anne’s eyes were wide he pulled back, uncertain. Phillip could only offer what he hoped was a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to his parents, who now eyed them with a sort of boggled expression. 

“Mother, father. You might remember Anne? Or ‘the help’, as you so blithely put it upon your first meeting. Though as of recently I simply refer to her as my wife.” He smiled, in the genial and vaguely condescending way that had been drilled into him since he was old enough to attend society functions.

His parents could only stare, wide eyed as they seemed to process the information. Next to him Anne stiffened, her thumbnail digging into his arm, the pressure still felt despite the fabric of his dinner jacket. 

“Don’t be an ass,” she hissed into his ear. 

“I’m simply sharing the happy news.” 

“We’re at a party.” 

“Exactly, we’re at a lovely gathering that was thrown in honor of you and the rest of the troupe. The fact my parents are in attendance must mean that they were looking for news about me.” He turned his attention back onto them. “Besides, I think you deserve a more proper introduction with your daughter-in-law. So, mother, father? May I officially present Anne Carlyle, my wife.” 

“You can’t expect--” his father sputtered, practically apoplectic.

“I can’t what?” Phillip cut in before his father could find his words. “I can’t expect you to respect marriage?” 

“Phillip, you cannot be serious about this.” His father’s face was ruddy, his tone indignant. Phillip gave a hollow laugh, and dropped Anne’s hand in order to step in close to his father. He kept his voice hushed, lest any of the other partygoers overhear him.

“Your letter made your views perfectly clear, and I have abided by the fact that I no longer have any real claim as your son. Though I would remind you, sir, that I meant exactly what I said at the theater; I want no part of your world if this is what it means.” 

“The fact is,” he continued and spared a glance toward his mother. “I love Anne, and we are married. If you want to be any part of my life, because I know that’s why you came here tonight, you have a choice to make: either accept both of us, or neither of us.” 

Phillip took a step back, and reclaimed Anne’s hand. “Now, if you will excuse us, the hour is growing late, and I should see my wife home.” 

With that he gave a curt bow to his parents, Anne managed a quick curtsy before he was pulling her away. He wasn’t entirely sure what his parents would say or do, but he didn’t really want to stay long enough to find out. 

They made a quick round of goodbyes, thanking the duke for his kindness, and found their way to the front door where a carriage awaited at their host’s bidding. It wasn’t until they were securely inside, the horses plodding their way toward the docks, that Anne leaned over and pressed a kiss to Phillip’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she said.

He eyed her askance. “For being an ass?”

She laughed and shook her head. “For being my husband.” 

“Oh, well, if that’s the case…” he trailed off and found her hand, lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin between cuff and glove. “Thank you for being my wife.” 

Her smile was wide, catlike as she settled her head on his shoulder. They rode in silence for a while, lulled by the gentle jostling of the carriage.

“Are you all right?” Anne finally asked. “After seeing them?”

Phillip nodded, his cheek pressed against the top of Anne’s head. “I’m sure I could have handled it better, but there is a part of me that’s glad they know. Although I won’t expect any warm invitations to afternoon tea anytime soon.”

“Do you think we’ll hear anything from them?”

“Maybe an angry letter saying I’m no longer allowed the name Carlyle.” He chuckled, though the thought didn’t seem completely unwarranted. 

“Does it bother you?” Anne lifted her head to look at him fully. “It would make sense for you to care, they are your parents.” 

He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter, because I care about you more.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re choosing.”

“I’m not, Anne.” Phillip reached out and cupped her cheek, made certain she was looking him in the eye. “It’s not a choice, but even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter if it was my parents, or an inheritance, the Queen of England… or even the circus. Because it would always be you.” 

Anne gently nuzzled her cheek against his palm, a smile lifting the corner of her mouth. “You know, you are awfully charming when you want to be.” 

“Thank you, I practice every night down by the docks. You should stop by sometime, you might enjoy the show.” He dropped his hand, index finger tracing a line over Anne’s jaw, and down her neck. His eyes slowly followed the path. 

“And interrupt you while you quote lines from plays to all the pretty girls? Perish the thought.” Her voice was full of mirth and Phillip snapped his gaze up to hers.

“I will have you know that I have _never_ used a line from a play on a woman before. My winsome smile was usually more than enough.” He grinned to prove the point, leaning in a bit closer to Anne. 

“Mhm,” Anne hummed, lips twitching. She mimicked his movement bringing them close enough that Phillip could feel her breath on his chin when she spoke, “Because you did that so often.”

“I do it more now.” 

“You do. So do I,” she said and finally closed the gap between them.

They were both smiling when they kissed.


End file.
